


The Nightwatchwoman

by Castelgard



Series: Meg Drummond [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29757066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castelgard/pseuds/Castelgard
Summary: London, 17th Century: Meg Drummond and Rose Galloway are two very different young women. Can they see eye to eye to protect the city they both love?
Series: Meg Drummond [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187057





	1. Chapter 1

Eight-year old Margaret Drummond made much of carrying the heavy bucket into the kitchen. Mrs. Stafford kissed her teeth. “Good God, girl. One could think you was carrying bricks. Quickly now, those don´t bake themselves.” Meg rolled her eyes when Mrs. Stafford turned her attention towards the dough again. The cook of the Galloway family was famed for her temper and her strawberry tarts. Meg was usually on the receiving end of the former, but never got a taste of the latter. Mrs. Stafford only made them when the family received special visitors. And today she would finally let Meg help. Little Meg had big ambitions. One day, she´d be the Galloways´ cook. Or perhaps even (dared she dream that big?) their housekeeper. She was learning her letters to prepare for that very day. “Go on, wash the strawberries and start cutting.” Mrs. Stafford supervised her young apprentice with eagle´s eyes. Meg was so focussed on her work that she didn´t hear Omar enter. “Strawberries?” he asked, standing right behind her. Meg jumped and dropped her knife. “Jesus!” Mrs. Stafford slapped the back of his head. “Don´t you have anything to do?” Sally Stafford couldn´t quite put her finger on it, but something about the twelve year old boy gave her the creeps. Omar had been born blind, but he was awfully sure on his feet. Omar reached around Meg into the bowl with the strawberries and popped one into his mouth. “Nice.” Meg bowed her head to hide a smile. “We are making tarts. Mrs. Stafford is finally showing me how. Someday I could make them for you.” Meg was glad that Omar didn´t see her blush. She was too young to be seriously interested in men, but she was just at the right age for her first crush. “I can´t wait.” Omar ruffled her cap playfully and Meg giggled. Mrs. Stafford rolled her eyes. “Did you want anything in particular?” “Dad wants to know if you are sticking with the lamb for dinner or if you decided on fish, so he can start preparing the wine.” Farouk Khaled had been in with the Galloway family as long as he had been in England. He had started as footman and now he was their butler. Sir Nigel Galloway considered him one of his closest friends. “No, still the lamb. They had no decent salmon today.”A fish market without a decent piece of salmon was something Mrs. Stafford considered to be a personal affront. “Meg bought trout for us, though.” Omar frowned. “You went alone to the fish market? Why didn´t you get me?” “I couldn´t find you. And...” she added hastily. “I don´t mind, really. I aint scared.” Meg was old enough to know which streets to avoid. “I know, my brave girl. I´d still rather come with you next time. I won´t be off again, I promise.” Meg beamed at him. She relished the fact that Omar cared. One day, when she was the housekeeper and he the butler, they could marry. She would make strawberry tarts for him and he would give her pretty babies. Mr. Khaled was an attractive man, and Omar would grow up to be just as handsome. Omar took another strawberry. “One for the road.” He gave Meg a quick hug and vanished into the wine cellar in search of his father. Mrs. Stafford shook her head. “If you don´t watch yourself, you will shame yourself before you turn 15.” Meg said nothing and continued to cut the berries. Grown-ups were so stupid sometimes. She loved Omar, there was no shame in that. And there would be no shame in the future. They would marry and all would be honourable. 

Meg found Omar at his usual spot on top of the stairs, where he listened to the music and the laughter from the drawing room. One of Nigel Galloway´s business partners was visiting, together with his wife and his eldest daughter. Meg sat down next to him and put a wooden plate into his lap. “I saved you a tart. I told Mrs. Stafford that I dropped it. I didn´t. I just wanted you to... have one.” Meg stammered. Omar gave her a fond smile. “Thank you.” He bit into the tart. “That´s amazing. Better than Mrs. Stafford´s, I am sure.” He ate half and gave her the rest. Meg was too hungry to protest. She was growing quickly and hungry all the time. While she ate, Omar laid his arm around her and the two of them listened in companionable silence. Meg leaned into him. The day had been long and she was glad to relax a bit. “Rose said that the Farringtons have been to Egypt to get the finest cotton. That would be something. It´s supposed to be really hot there. Hot and sunny and bright...” Omar chuckled. “We are going to Egypt now? What about the Ottoman Empire?” It was a game they played on long evenings. They planned travels they would never embark on; talked about places they would never see and people they would never meet. When the work was particularly hard, it was the only thing that kept Meg going. According to Mrs. Stafford, her father had travelled widely in Sir Nigel´s service. He had been captain on his trading vessel. Meg had only vague memories of his thick beard. Whenever she imagined herself travelling, she felt closer to him. Omar was eager to join her. He was growing quickly, and the house was not big enough to contain his thirst for life anymore. “There you are.” Meg fought the impulse to roll her eyes and turned around to find Rose Galloway standing behind them. The only child of Sir Nigel and Adelaide Galloway was two years younger than Meg and a perfect little doll. If it was up to Meg, she would avoid her whenever possible, but Rose and Omar were close. Not as close as Omar and I, though. That was something Meg had to remind herself whenever they were together. Rose would grow up to marry someone very rich, maybe even noble. She would never have Omar. What would she want him for? She had the most gorgeous dresses, lovely toys to play with and could drink hot chocolate whenever she felt like it. Meg was too young to understand her true feelings towards Rose. In her childish naiveté, she thought that she simply disliked her. In truth, she was violently jealous. She had overheard Rose´s parents talking about the proper age for her to begin her studies. She would learn languages, dances, music... And Meg? Meg made the fires and swept chimneys. Once in a while, she learned how to bake a cake. Deep down, Meg knew that she could never compete with Rose, not even for Omar´s affections. Rose was so witty and clever. In a way, she was like Omar. Both dreamed of adventures in faraway lands. They wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of polite society. Well, Omar had a better chance of that. If he felt like it, he could just leave and try his luck elsewhere. Rose would be a prisoner of her rank forever. Meg could imagine worse things. Soft beds, pretty dresses, good food and, above all, parents who always looked out for her. Rose had all that and didn´t appreciate it. Meg had only Omar and she would be damned if she´d let Rose take him away. However, she had seen enough of people to know that this sort of thinking was not considered attractive in a woman. Therefore Meg smiled. “Join us?” Rose sat down on Omar´s other side. Meg half-expected her to snuggle into her friend as well, but Rose kept her distance. “God, that was the most boring dinner ever. Thank God my parents sent me to bed.” “Did they like the strawberry tarts?” Meg asked. Rose shrugged. “They didn´t comment. To be honest, they were alright, but last time they were better.” “Oh. Right.” Meg swallowed down a bitter response. Omar pulled her closer. “Can´t be. I loved it.” Meg placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Omar gave a surprised chuckle. Rose watched them silently, a dark look on her face. 

Meg felt a hand cover her mouth. She opened her eyes and was ready to flail around in panic, but then she heard Omar´s voice. “It´s me. We need to talk. Outside.” It was completely dark. How had Omar managed to sneak into the tiny room she shared with the maid Sarah? Meg nodded and followed him as quietly as she could. They made their way into the deserted kitchen. Without the lit fireplace and the scent of baking pies, it was a forlorn and depressing place. She couldn´t even see Omar properly. “What´s the matter?” she asked. But deep down, she knew. For days, she had had this strange feeling. Dread. Something was about to happen, but she hadn´t known when or what. Well, it was happening now. “You are leaving.” Meg whispered. Omar sat down on the wooden bench next to her and took her hand. “How did you know?” Meg shrugged. “I had a feeling.” She couldn´t say more. An invisible hand was choking her, another was squeezing her heart until it hurt. “A man approached me. A great man. He offered...” Omar stopped, unsure of what to say. “I can´t stay, Maggie. I need more from life.” Meg wiped her eyes angrily. Omar couldn´t even see her tears, yet she was ashamed of them. “Take me with you.” Omar was silent. Meg could almost hear him think. “I can´t. What I am about to do... Mr. Lowndes said that it will be dangerous.” He is leaving. He will be gone and I will never see him again. When her parents had died, Meg had been too young to remember much of them. She yearned for the idea of having parents, but she didn´t quite know what it would mean for her. Now she was old enough to feel the full force of what she was about to lose. She had to take a couple of breaths to find her voice again. “Will I ever see you again?” “I don´t know.” Omar said softly. He was not crying, but Meg knew him enough to recognize the sadness in his words. Suddenly, he wrapped her in his arms. “You won´t forget me, will you?” Meg asked timidly. She felt something wet on her cheek. Omar was crying too. “Maggie, I could never forget you. I will miss you. Promise me you´ll take care of yourself. You´ll continue to learn your letters and your numbers, and one day you´ll be housekeeper. You will find a good man to marry and you´ll have a family. And... promise me to look after Dad. Please, Maggie. Promise.”  
“I promise.” Omar kissed her cheek, let go of her and vanished through the back door.


	2. Chapter 2

The first few weeks after Omar´s departure were the worst. When Meg was opening her eyes in the mornings, not even half-awake, she forgot that he was gone. When she remembered, it felt like somebody had punched her in the gut. As bad as it was for her, it was harder for Mr. Khaled. Apparently, Omar had not said goodbye to him. Meg knew Omar well enough to guess his reasons. He wouldn´t have been able to stand his father´s grief. Meg had not asked him to stay, but Mr. Khaled would have. And Omar wouldn´t have been able to refuse him. One evening during their lessons, Meg tried to tell him. She was not sure if she was able to make herself understood, though. She could not yet speak about Omar without tearing up. Mr. Khaled smiled. “At least he said his goodbyes to you. I know how much you meant to him.” Meg swallowed down her tears. “His last words to me were about you. He told me to look after you.” Mr. Khaled said nothing. He was always so serene and composed. Even now, he tried his best to hide his grief. He pushed the book towards Meg. “Continue.” “So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them. “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Bar... Barr...” “Barabbas.” Mr. Khaled helped her out. He put his hand on hers. “You know, I always thought that I could call you daughter one day. You and Omar were so close. I thought...” “Me too.” Meg said softly. “I would have liked to be your daughter.” Both sat in silence for a moment, until Meg resumed her reading. “Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus, who is called the Messiah?” “Good.” Mr. Khaled closed the Bible. “I think, that is enough for today. We will look at one of Mrs. Ferrars´ ledgers tomorrow, and start with the numbers. Daughter.” Meg pressed his hand. Was it only her imagination or did he look older? There were new lines in his face and his dark hair began to turn grey. Was that was grief did to you? 

Omar´s absence had another, more unexpected outcome: Meg and Rose grew closer. Meg had not realised how much she had leant on Omar for friendship and company. She still had Mr. Khaled, but she never forgot her promise to Omar to look after him. She tried to cheer him up and offer all the comfort possible for an eight year old girl who just started to understand true loss. Perhaps it was only natural that she turned towards Rose now. Rose mourned Omar just as she had, but talking about him made it easier. At first, Omar was the only thing the two girls had in common. Slowly, they turned towards other pursuits. They snuck out at dawn to play in the streets and came home tired and dirty. When Meg turned twelve, a new stable boy joined the Galloway household. Jeremy was fourteen and was developing into a fine, young man. Meg and Rose hid behind half-closed doors to sneak a glance at him. Rose´s parents were now preparing her for her future as a society lady in earnest. They paid for lessons in dancing, singing and painting, and they commissioned a very fine family painting. As much as Rose despised her role, she played it well. She danced with a grace beyond her years and suffered through hours of stuffy dinners. Now, Meg was old enough to understand why Rose resented her station. Meg was free to develop crushes on farmhands, stable boys or merchant´s apprentices, but even the slightest hint of such behaviour from Rose would earn her a harsh punishment from her parents. By now, they hardly ever talked about Omar, but he was still very present in their thoughts. Meg´s feelings towards him had lost their worshipful quality. She witnessed firsthand how much Mr. Khaled suffered. He withdrew into himself. Meg was the only one he could stand to talk to about his errant son. By now, he looked much older than his forty years. His hair was completely white and Meg couldn´t remember the last time she had seen him smile. When he believed himself unobserved, he placed a hand on his heart. He never spoke about it, but Meg saw that something was wrong with him. His heart was broken. Whenever she saw Mr. Khaled like this, she became mad at Omar. He had left his father without saying goodbye. Where the hell was he now? Was he even thinking of them? 

Meg´s life changed again when she turned fifteen. Mrs. Stafford was relying on her more and more, and Mrs. Ferrars had started to take her under her wing and explain housekeeping matters. Meg felt that her hard work was finally paying off, but instead of being proud, she was... she didn´t know what to call it, but whenever she thought of spending the rest of her days in this place as a servant, the walls came closer and closer until they threatened to crush her. She couldn´t bear the idea of never being anything else or doing anything worthwhile with her life. When she thought about Omar now, it was with longing. Yes, he had been wrong to leave his father to grief and loneliness, but now Meg could understand him better. The Galloway manor, imposing as it was, became almost a prison. She had nowhere else to go, but when she went to the market to buy fruit or the harbour to buy fish, she got small glimpses of a whole world beyond her station. Her yearning for adventure and her thoughts for Omar were taking on different forms yet again. Meg was old enough for love. She saw maids and manservants vanish into the stables together and coming out dishevelled and giddy. She watched Jem take care of the horses, wearing only his trousers and a half-open shirt over his strong shoulders. When Meg lay awake at night restlessly, her thoughts wandered to Omar. What sort of man would he be now? Would he be brave, and strong and handsome? Her childhood dreams of becoming Omar´s wife surfaced again, but now she had a better idea of what she had been dreaming about. She wanted a man in her bed. Whenever she saw Jem during her duties, they exchanged pleasantries, sometimes even flirty ones. Jem was experienced, Meg was sure of it. But at night, she still thought of Omar.  
One evening in May, she found Jem sitting at the kitchen table, his handsome face tight with worry. Meg joined him at the table. “Are you alright?” Jem shook his head. He glanced around the kitchen to make sure they were the only ones present. “I think I am in trouble. That is... my folks are.” Meg poured him a cup of ale. “Talk to me.” “Money. Again.” Jem chuckled mirthlessly. “Uncle Dan broke his leg yesterday. He has been on the night watch three times a week to cover for Will.” Jem´s younger brother Will was a boy of fourteen, as sweet and gentle as a girl. He had just started his apprenticeship in a bakery. He had been on the night watch once and had almost gotten himself killed. Now he was too scared to do “Now that neither Will nor Dan can perform their rota in the night watch, we´d need to pay a fine. And... we don´t have the money.” Every able-bodied man of a parish had to report for night watch duties once in a while. In theory, everyone would help protect their community. If they were unable, they had to pay a fine, or pay somebody else to do it in his stead. The constable collected these fines and paid them to the men who actually showed up. Some men made a living of being on the night watch more frequently than they would have to be. Jem´s uncle was one of them. Since Jem´s father had died on some far-away battle field, his family relied on the money Dan earned in the night watch, on Jem´s position with the Galloways and now Will´s job with the baker. If one income fell away – or even worse, if they had to pay the night watch fine- it would put his family in a more than awkward position. Meg thought it over. It was a huge sign of trust from Jem to talk about such a delicate subject. He was quite proud and didn´t usually let on when he needed help. The situation must be dire indeed. “Couldn´t you talk to Sir Nigel? Or maybe Mr. Khaled? He could mention it to Sir Nigel and he could help out with the fine...” Jem shook his head violently. “No. Meg, this needs to stay between us. I am not going to beg for handouts from my boss. I can cover for Will, but I can´t cover for Uncle Dan as well.” Meg looked at him. The beginning of an idea was stirring inside her mind. “I could.” Jem laughed. “Yes. They would love that. A girl in the night watch. That´s kind of you to offer, but...” Meg raised her hand to silence him. “They wouldn´t have to know I am a girl. Just get me a pair of breeches, a coat and a hat, and I am set. As far as anyone is concerned, I am a cousin who is filling in. An out-of-town cousin. And when Dan is better, that cousin will go back home and we will never speak of it.” Jem looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Christ, you can´t be serious. This is dangerous work. Do you have any idea how many unsavoury characters are around at night?” Meg shrugged. “If you don´t want to ask Mr. Khaled and Sir Nigel for money, you don´t have many other option. I can do it, I promise. I´ll be fine. I will stay out of danger, keep my head down and everything will be fine.” Jem looked at her. She could almost hear him think. He made a frustrated grunting sound and dropped his shoulders. “Promise me you´ll stay far away from any fights. This is not about you keeping London´s streets save. Don´t worry about that. Worry only about your own safety.” Meg nodded. “I will be fine.” She felt her heart beat in a way it had not done for a long time. Finally, there was something else than the tedious succession of chores. Jem ran his fingers through his hair. “I can´t believe I am actually agreeing to this. Christ, if anything happens to you...” Meg put a hand on his and smiled. “Nothing will happen to me. This will be our little secret.” They sat like that when Mr. Khaled entered the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows at the intimacy between them but didn´t comment. “Meg, Sir Nigel will have guests tomorrow evening. He ordered roast chicken and apple pie. Tell Mrs. Stafford, will you?” Meg nodded. Mr. Khaled gave them a last, disapproving look and went down into the wine cellar. When he was at the door, he clasped a hand on his heart and reached for the wall with the other to steady himself. Meg was at his side in a moment. “You aren´t well. We are putting you to bed.” Jem took his other arm and together they managed to get Mr. Khaled back to his room and into bed. Jem left after a while, but Meg pulled up a chair next to his bed. Mr. Khaled closed his eyes and coughed. Meg´s enthusiasm about her upcoming adventure vanished and made room for an all-consuming sense of dread. “Shall I... make you some tea? A nice cup of tea might...” Meg found herself babbling. It was plain that Mr. Khaled needed more than a cup of tea. His face was ashen and the way in which he pressed his lips together showed Meg that he was in pain. “Your heart again?” she asked. Mr. Khaled gave her a weak smile. “You see more than you let one, dear girl.” He stretched out his hand and Meg took it. When Mr. Khaled looked at her, his eyes were full of tenderness and... love? “You have a good heart. Never change. I will not be here when Omar comes back. And maybe you won´t, either. The stable boy likes you. He might make a good husband. But if you and Omar ever... would you...” “I swear to take care of Omar. Always.” Mr. Khaled closed his eyes. “He will need you.” Meg wiped the tears from her eyes. “Please don´t worry. I will be there for him when he comes back.” Mr. Khaled gave her hand a last squeeze. His last breath sounded almost like a relieved sigh. Meg didn´t move. She sat by his side the whole night, holding his cold hand. When Mrs. Ferrars found her at dawn the next day, Meg couldn´t say if she had stayed awake the whole time. She wouldn´t let go of Mr. Khaled´s hand. She didn´t speak a single word, when the housekeeper called for the priest, but when two menservants came to carry him away, she began to howl like a wild animal. Mrs. Ferrars hugged her fiercely. “I know.” she murmured reassuringly until Meg had calmed down enough to collapse sobbing. With the help of Mrs. Stafford, they put Meg to bed. They made her drink a concoction that put her to sleep in a couple of moments. That was the day the dreams began.

_The man was dark and slender, with short hair and a shaggy beard. He had been on the road for days, living off his wits and the animals he managed to hunt. Over the years, he had become the most deadly hunter. There was something oddly familiar about him. Wherever he was, it was an inhospitable spot. It was dusty; there was no tree for miles. The sun was burning hot from the sky. Suddenly, he stopped and tensed. Meg recognised his features. It was Omar. He was now fully grown and as handsome as she had imagined. She called his name, but there was no sound. Still, somehow Omar had heard her. He stretched out his hands as if he were trying to reach her. “Meg?” he shouted. “Where are you?”_

__

__

When Meg woke up, she found Rose sitting next to her. Light shone through the window, it must still be day. “What time is it?” Meg felt awful. Whatever Mrs. Ferrars had given her, it made her head spin. “About three in the afternoon. How are you?” Rose´s blue eyes gleamed with tears. Meg swallowed. “Is Mr. Khaled really...?” Rose nodded and took her hand. “I am sorry. He was like a father to you, wasn´t he?” Rose would be fourteen in a month. She was showing traces of the beautiful woman she´d become. But Meg was no longer jealous of her. She was simply glad that she was here. “Shouldn´t you be at your fancy party?” Meg asked weakly. Rose shook her head. “Father allowed me to sit this one out and wait until you wake up. We were worried about you.” “I... I dreamt of Omar.” They hadn´t talked about Omar in months, but Meg felt that she had to tell someone. Rose looked at her in anticipation. “I saw him. Not as a boy, but a man.” Rose averted her eyes and swallowed. She was still missing him, that much was clear. And perhaps her feelings about him hadn´t been as mixed as Meg´s had been. After all, Rose hadn´t seen Mr. Khaled waste away the way Meg had. “Was he... well?” Rose asked. Meg nodded. “I think so. I have never dreamt about him before. But I guess it was to be expected, now that...” The tears came again and choked her. Rose pulled her into a hug. 


End file.
